Asking Too Much
by bionic4ever
Summary: Sus3: Although still newlyweds, Jaime and Steve must both pose as single and available in order to stop a terrorist group from creating international chaos.
1. Chapter 1

**Asking Too Much**

Special thanks to Julie, who gave me the idea for this story.

Chapter One

"Steve, great to see you, Pal!" Oscar moved around the desk to shake his hand and pat him heartily on the back. "How's married life?"

"Fantastic. And the month you gave us really worked wonders - thank you."

"You're welcome, and I'm glad. How _is_ Jaime?" Oscar asked as they both sat down.

Steve smiled broadly. "She is absolutely amazing. Rudy says she's back to 100 percent."

"I know; I talked to him this morning. Her physical recovery is nothing short of miraculous. A bullet wound, skull injury -"

"Bailey _tortured_ her," Steve added, no longer smiling, "and not just physically."

"Exactly. Steve...how is she, really?"

"You know, it might be simpler to ask _Jaime_ how she's doing."

"I plan on it, but if she is having problems, I don't want to cause any further pain."

"She's fine," Steve asserted.

"No nightmares or flashbacks?"

"No...Oscar, what are you getting at?"

"Do you think she's going to be able to work again, or -?"

"Definitely."

"No signs of skittish-ness?"

"Not that I've seen."

"Because you know, in this business - the people we deal with and the lives we lead - hesitation can easily be fatal."

"Sounds like you've already got an assignment in mind for her."

"For both of you," Oscar revealed. "It's big, and it's serious. To be honest, though -"

"You're not sure if she can handle it."

"_Can_ she handle life or death decisions?"

"I think so."

"That's not good enough."

"Oscar, what do you want from me?"

"Talk to Jaime tonight. Feel her out, emotionally. Then be honest - _completely honest_ - in telling me what you find."

"I wouldn't lie to you."

"Not even when it comes to Jaime?"

"_Especially_ when it comes to Jaime," Steve sighed. "You know there's nothing I'd like better than to see her retire - and be out of harm's way - permanently. That wouldn't be fair to her, though, or to you."

"Can you be objective, in that case?"

"Absolutely."

"Ok, Pal. Talk with her tonight, and come back here first thing in the morning. We'll decide then."

------

Jaime bounced to the door, happily throwing her arms around Steve as soon as he came in. Steve pulled her closer for a long, soft kiss.

"Wow - for a greeting like that, how 'bout if I go out and come in again, for seconds?" he said, beaming at her.

Jaime kissed him again. "I thought I was gonna be on my own for awhile. Oscar didn't put you to work, after all?"

"Maybe in a day or two. Just wanted me to...check in, I guess," Steve hedged as they moved into the den.

Jaime nodded knowingly. "He wanted to ask you about me," she stated, sinking down next to him on the sofa with her legs curled beneath her. "Didn't he?"

"Why would you think -"

Jaime looked right into his eyes, smiling but serious. "Steve..."

"Yes."

"He doesn't think I can cut it anymore."

Steve gently wrapped an arm around his wife, tenderly caressing her cheek with his other hand. "No, Sweetheart, that's not it. He's concerned about your safety."

"Steve, he's gonna punish me for being victimized."

"Jaime -"

"That's not right, and it isn't fair! I'm damn good -"

"Jaime -"

"You suffered, too, and he isn't retiring you."

"Sweetheart, please -"

"**Is he**?"

Steve put a gentle finger to her lips. "He's not retiring you. But he needs to know - and so do I - what's gonna happen the next time someone grabs you or you have to face a loaded gun."

"If anything, I'll fight harder."

"After everything Bailey did to you, no one would fault you in any way if -"

"**_I'm fine_**. I thought you knew that. Dammit - I wanna work!"

"Maybe a little more time off..."

"I _need_ to work!" Jaime looked directly at him, her eyes burning with fierce determination. Steve caught the look and the mind-set it represented, and he knew he had no other choice; he believed her.

------

Oscar was in his office even earlier than usual the next morning. When his office door opened without so much as a preliminary knock, he greeted his visitor with a calm smile and a mug of coffee.

"Good morning, Jaime," he said jovially.

"I know you were expecting Steve -"

"Scoop of cocoa," he said, handing her the mug, "just the way you like it."

"You knew I'd be coming?"

"No, but I was hoping you would." Oscar's smile spread across his entire face. "You just told me more than a dozen tests, or even your husband could have said. Welcome back, Babe."

------


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Steve joined his wife and their boss a half-hour later, with a very un-Steve-like knock at the office door. He'd been expecting to see the tail end of the Storm of the Century, but breathed a deep sigh of relief when he saw smiles instead.

"Steve, your wife is a remarkable woman," Oscar told him, handing him a cup of coffee.

"I know," Steve agreed, leaning down to kiss Jaime before taking a seat beside her.

"Remarkably persuasive," Oscar continued.

"Remarkably stubborn," Steve added, grinning.

"Jaime, you've recovered far beyond anyone's expectations," Oscar told her, "and marriage definitely agrees with you - with _both _of you." Oscar gave them both one more smile, then paced slowly to the window. When he turned around, he was suddenly deathly serious. "That's a very good thing, because we've got an extremely serious _international _situation on our hands. Both of you will be tested in ways you've never experienced before, and I'll tell you at the outset that neither one of you are going to like this assignment. I need you to do it anyway."

"An offer we can't refuse, huh?" Steve joked.

"Precisely." Oscar was **not** joking. "We've received reliable intel reports of an impending plan to assassinate the leaders of four nations: China, Japan, the Soviet Union...and the United States - simultaneously."

Steve whistled under his breath. "International chaos and world domination. So who's behind it?"

"It appears to be a multi-national terrorist group, currently based at - of all places - a singles' resort on a small island southeast of Maui."

"And you want Steve and me to crash a singles' club?" Jaime asked.

"Not exactly. You'll both be working the case - at the resort - but not together. This is where it gets tough. Steve, you'll be posing as a rogue assassin, getting pulled into their circle if we're lucky, but if not, your status as a single, wealthy, available man should make you privy to some useful informa -"

"**_Single and available_**?" Jaime protested. "Do you realize how many women -"

"Yes," Oscar said quietly, "and I need him to encourage that."

"Now, wait a minute!" Jaime was not pleased.

Steve realized they'd only heard half of the plan. "Oscar...what will my **_wife_** be doing at this _singles' _haven?"

Oscar opened the file on his desk and pulled out an 8 X 10 head-shot of a man in his late thirties, with very dark hair and extremely light blue eyes. "Alexander Marcos," he told them. "Believed to be from Greece, and apparently one of the instigators of this group. It's also been said that he collects women the way some people collect stamps. Jaime, he's your target. Once you get close to him -"

"No. I can't do that," Jaime said firmly. "I **won't** do that. I mean, I'll do almost anything for the good of this country, but to seduce a total stranger - to use my body as some kind of weapon - **no**."

"Babe, I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to imply that you should sleep with him," Oscar clarified. "Absolutely not."

"Just _exactly _what are you telling her to do?" Steve asked with barely contained anger.

"Get close to him," Oscar repeated. "Jaime, you're going in as a young, single woman. I guarantee you'll have his attention."

"Not to mention every other man on the island who'll be drooling," Steve pointed out, most unhappily.

"We need for him to believe you're his girlfriend," Oscar continued, but you don't need to let it go further than the occasional kiss."

"Forget it; she's not going," Steve said adamantly.

"Steve, we're not just talking about this country's welfare," Jaime said softly.

"She's right, Pal. The two of you have a rock-solid relationship, and your abilities give you a far better chance than anyone else would have of getting out if things go bad."

"No," Steve insisted. "That's just too much. You're asking too much of her. And since I'll be on that island, too, I'd have to see it - that's asking too much of me."

Jaime turned to her husband and took his hand. "Steve, you're gonna be a little busy with the women swarming all over you. Believe me, I'm not overjoyed about _that_, but if that's as far as it goes, we **_have_** to do this. The alternative is...unthinkable."

"I don't like it."

"Well, neither do I, but..." Jaime looked at Steve with the same determined - stubborn - gaze she'd used on him the night before and on Oscar that morning. "I love you."

Steve knew he'd been outvoted. "Ok. But if that...Alexander creep goes too far, so help me...!"

Jaime smiled. "If he tries to go too far, I will personally make sure he ends up singing first soprano in the Boys Town Choir."

------

Oscar had given them three hours to go home and pack before they had to catch the separate planes that would whisk them off to "Paradise." Jaime and Steve spent less than twenty minutes neatly throwing their belongings into suitcases, then fell into each other's arms with an urgency greater than they'd ever known before - a need to fully connect while they still could.

When the time came, they reluctantly got into the separate cars that Oscar had sent for them and drove away, having just done the hardest thing they'd ever had to do. They'd removed their wedding rings, locked them both in a tiny metal box and left them behind on the bedroom dresser.

------


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Jaime embraced her new identity as fully as she could, flouncing across the sand in a bikini she'd never imagined she'd have the courage to wear in public. Her intention was to keep this new, single persona - 'Susanna' - completely separate from Jaime Sommers. She chose a padded lounge chair just slightly off to the side from the main action on the beach. Her goal, after all, was _not _to blend in. After accepting an iced pineapple juice from a scantily-clad waiter, she scanned the crowd but saw no sign of Marcos, or of Steve.

She tried focusing on various conversations, but the only plans she heard being made seemed to be for an impending orgy, not an assassination. Feeling somewhat drowsy in the midday tropical sun, Jaime closed her eyes.

His voice was so soft and so smooth that at first Jaime thought she was drifting somewhere in dreamland. "Well now, a woman as beautiful as you are shouldn't be spending the best part of the day alone."

Jaime opened her eyes slowly. Yes, it was Marcos, and she took a quick moment to catch her breath when she saw that his eyes were an even lighter, brighter shade of blue than they'd seemed in the photo. She gave him her sweetest smile. "Maybe I was waiting...for you."

"Beautiful _and_ charming! You are someone I need to know." He bent down with just the right flourish and kissed Jaime's hand. "I'm Alex."

"Susanna."

"I hate to seem too forward, but I'd love to buy you a drink," he said softly.

"Alright; I think I'd like that."

Two drinks later, Alex was still oozing charm from every pore, and Jaime obviously had his full attention. She discovered that he wasn't staying in one of the cottages or the cabanas. He was renting the villa - the island's version of a VIP suite, more closely resembling a large ranch home. There were six bedrooms, each with its own bath, a large private dining room and a smaller, more intimate dining alcove. With great (hidden) satisfaction, Jaime accepted Alex's invitation to have dinner at the villa, served by his private chef.

In the short amount of time Jaime took to return to her cottage to get dressed, Alex worked a minor miracle. The alcove's small glass table was set with a dozen white votive candles glowing in the center. He bowed gallantly and, touching her for the first time, put an arm around Jaime's waist to lead her to her chair, where a single rose waited next to her plate. In spite of herself, Jaime was enchanted.

She watched Alex as closely as she dared through the multiple courses of a gourmet dinner, fascinated by his eyes. Jaime had never seen eyes that color, and in order to avoid becoming enthralled by the way they seemed to so gently penetrate deep inside her, she watched him watching her. Susanna came vividly to life, hanging on Alex's every word, smiling and laughing flirtatiously while Jaime studied her subject. He was soft-spoken, romantic and smooth without seeming the least bit slimy or false. She realized that if she was actually single, she'd already be falling for him - hard.

"What do you do, Alex?" Jaime asked him. "When you're not chasing women out of their beach chairs, I mean."

Alex smiled warmly. "I own a private helicopter touring business. My choppers go wherever they're hired to go, within reason, of course. No war zones and nothing that would put my pilots at undue risk."

"Wow!" she gushed as Susanna. Jaime filed every detail away for possible future use. "How many helicopters? Do you actually fly one yourself?"

"I've got six for the company, and one of my own. I fly mine more for pleasure, though."

Jaime prided herself on her ability to read people, and she was having trouble reconciling the man who sat across from her with what Oscar had said about him. The pieces just didn't fit...

------

Steve, meanwhile, was a million miles away - in his head - from the flock of girls who were already trying to grab his attention. He'd assured Oscar that Jaime was ready to work again, but was she really? He kept picturing Franklin Bailey dangling her limp body over the hole he'd dug to serve as her grave. Bailey's intention had been to hurt Steve in the worst way possible, and his plan was to bury Jaime alive. Steve had always known his wife was resilient, but he was amazed the incident hadn't given her nightmares. He'd had them; still did. Now, as he gazed down the beach toward the villa, Jaime and Alex were just emerging and Steve had to watch another man put his hands on her, albeit for a very different reason. It hurt him terribly, tearing holes straight through his heart, but for some bizarre reason, he was unable to look away.

------

It had been a wonderful dinner, one they'd lingered over for hours, until they no longer felt like strangers. Jaime wasn't sure how much of what he'd told her was really true, but when she'd summed up her life for him, it had been a great work of fiction, so lies all around the table seemed only fair and fitting.

Alex led Jaime to the edge of the water with his arm around her waist. As he turned to look at her, his other arm moved very gently around her as well, completely encircling her. "You're even more beautiful in the moonlight...if that's possible," he told her, his eyes soft and happy. Jaime held her breath, sensing what would probably happen next, trying to be prepared.

She was right. Alex's eyes locked magnetically into hers as he leaned in, ever-so-slowly, to brush his lips against Jaime's. Jaime was surprised to discover that...it wasn't terrible.

------


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The phone in Jaime's cottage was ringing as she walked through the door. She picked up without saying a word.

"It's me," the voice on the other end stated, then fell silent, allowing Jaime to check the line for bugs or taps.

"Line's clear. Hi, Steve."

"Looked mighty cozy out there tonight..."

Jaime chuckled. "Doing my job."

"Yeah, well I'd feel better if your job involved a ninety-year-old hunchback with warts."

"That is so gross."

"Exactly," Steve said. "So is he a good kisser?"

"_Steve_!"

"Sorry. It's just a little hard, seeing my wife in another man's arms, smiling while he kisses her."

"So don't watch," Jaime suggested. "What about you? How'd your day go?"

"I learned a couple tidbits from my harem," he answered, throwing in 'harem' just to tease her a bit. "Your friend Alex apparently isn't the womanizer Oscar made him out to be. According to a few of my girls, he's been here almost two weeks and you're the first one he's taken an interest in."

"_Your girls_, Austin?"

"Only a couple dozen."

"Ha. Ha. Ha." In truth, Jaime was relieved, glad he was still in a joking mood.

"Are you seeing him again tomorrow?" Steve asked.

"Bright and early for breakfast."

"Find out anything yet?"

"Just that he owns a fleet of helicopters."

"Yeah? Well, I walked on the moon."

"Steve, you're not in competition here."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he said lightly, hiding his nervousness.

"_I love you_. I tolerate Alex."

"I'd tolerate him, too," Steve agreed, "if he wasn't - as you women say - drop-dead gorgeous."

"You've got nothing to worry about," she told him, smiling to herself.

"Promise? You're not gonna kiss him again tomorrow morning, melt right into his arms and forget all about me?" He was only partially joking.

"_Steve_..."

"Sorry. Again. You'd better get some rest, Sweetheart. I miss you already."

"I miss you, too. 'Night."

------

Jaime was expecting to meet Alex at the villa, but he was waiting on the path directly in front of her cottage, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. "Thank you," she said, accepting them and standing on her tiptoes to kiss him lightly on the cheek. His arms gently enveloped her as though it were the most natural thing in the world, and he pulled her in closer for a _real_ kiss. To her shock, Jaime felt her body begin to respond instinctually until she stopped it with the sheer power of her will. There was no way she'd let things progress, of course, but she had to remind her body where she was and exactly what she was doing.

After breakfast, they walked arm-in-arm through the sand at the edge of the water. As they approached the main portion of the beach, they both saw Steve. He had a redhead on one arm and two brunettes on the other, with two or three more women gathered to the side.

"Now that's tacky," Alex remarked, "stringing 'em all along like that." He reached over to run his fingers lightly across Jaime's cheek and through her hair. "I'd so much rather stick to one very special woman."

"What do they see in him anyway?" Jaime asked. "He looks like a muscle-bound Ken doll on steroids." _I'm sorry, Steve._

As they walked slowly back toward the villa, Jaime could feel her husband's eyes boring into her back the entire time.

After she had spent most of the day with Alex, observing him, talking with him (and, yes, kissing him), Jaime found that she was actually starting to like him. Not in a man-woman_ romantic _sense of the word, but she liked him as a friend, as a person. Oscar had been wrong about his being a womanizer; could he be wrong about the rest as well? What if Alex was innocent...?

------

The phone rang as Jaime was changing clothes before dinner. "It's me," the voice on the other end told her. She listened carefully - still no phone taps.

"Line's clear."

"_Muscle-bound Ken doll on steroids, _Sweetheart?"

"Now he'll never picture us as a couple," Jaime explained.

"But we still are, right?"

"Are what?"

"A couple."

"I'm not even gonna legitimize that with an answer."

"He sure does seem to enjoy kissing you," Steve said softly.

"Steve -"

"Just pointing out the obvious. I'm surprised he hasn't offered you a room at the villa yet."

"Actually..."

"He did? Are you going?"

"I'm not sure yet. I know I'd be able to see and hear a lot more, but I'm not entirely comfortable with the idea -"

"Neither am I, but I trust you. I'll just be glad when all this is over. Did you find anything new yet?"

"Not really..."

"And what are you hedging around?"

Jaime paused briefly. "Steve, I'm starting to wonder if maybe Alex is innocent. Maybe intel was wrong and he's got no part in this."

"You're...falling for him already?" Steve asked in a flat, empty voice.

"Of course not, but my gut is hardly ever wrong, and it's telling me we don't have all the facts. And he's just so _nice_. He's gentle, sweet; sorta reminds me of you."

"Just be careful, Sweetheart," Steve told her. "Like you said, we don't have all the facts yet. Once we do, I have a feeling you might not like them."

------


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Jaime headed back to the villa for dinner, and her knock on the door was answered by Alex's assistant.

"Hi, Susanna. C'mon in." He motioned toward the den at the end of the hallway. "Alex had to take a phone call, but he shouldn't be long. Please make yourself comfortable."

"Thank you," Jaime told him, instantly beginning to focus on each individual sound within the villa, trying to pick up whatever information she could. As she sank comfortably into the love seat, next to a roaring fire in the imported marble fireplace, she finally isolated Alex's voice. He was in the office on the other side of a door at the rear of the den. Thanks to Rudy's latest improvements, Jaime found she was able to pick up both sides of the conversation.

"You can send 'em wherever you want," Alex was saying, "but I need all six of them done, ready and available in five days. Wednesday - no exceptions and no excuses. They'll be working for me, personally, on Friday, and I'll need twenty-four hours to get them all into place."

"You sure you'll need all six? We'll be losing a lot of week-end business," the other voice, also male, pointed out.

"We can afford to lose one damned week-end!" Alex told him in a sharp, angry voice.

"But -"

"Which one of us is the boss? Just **do it**, and pass on the word."

As Alex abruptly hung up the phone, Jaime's mind was racing. _Ok, that could mean a lot of different things. Doesn't mean he's doing anything wrong. Besides, he needs six choppers, not four. The numbers don't line up..._

"Well, hello, Beautiful," Alex said in a much softer voice. He picked up the bottle and two glasses that had magically appeared on the sideboard, deftly poured the wine and handed a glass to Jaime as he sat down beside her. His arm slipped smoothly around her body as though it belonged there.

Jaime searched his face as her mind swam with confusion. His eyes were so kind, and his expression was almost..._loving_. "I missed you," she told him as an uneasy sense of foreboding drifted through her like thick, dark fog.

------

A phone call from Oscar later that night did nothing to make her feel better. "Steve tells me you're doing a great job. Got anything for me yet?" he'd asked.

"I'm...not sure. Give me until tomorrow night, ok?" Jaime hedged. She didn't like turning in partial facts.

"I've gotten another intel report," Oscar told her. "The attacks are planned for next Friday, a week from today, and they've upped the ante and added England and Italy to the list."

"Ok. Call me back tomorrow." Jaime hung up the phone and briefly closed her eyes in dismay. _England and Italy - that makes six._

_------_

Jaime returned to work early the next morning. She and Alex were just about to embark on a sailboat ride when he was summoned back inside for a phone call.

"Take a message," Alex said, annoyed. He took Jaime's hand. "I've got far more important things to do right now."

"It's Rawson, and he says it's urgent," the younger man insisted.

"I'll be right back," Alex sighed.

Jaime followed him as far as the front of the villa, then seated herself on the veranda.

"What's so all-fire, important, Rawson?" she heard Alex demand, skipping the greeting as he picked up the receiver.

"They've moved up the date - day after tomorrow, high noon, DC time."

_Oh, Alex...no, _Jaime lamented silently.

"They can't do that!" Alex protested.

"Well, they have, and all we can do now is deal with it."

"I can't possibly have six people, who are all over the globe at this moment, by the way, in their places in time," Alex insisted.

"You need to find a way. We only get this one shot, and you know what happens if we blow it. We _can't_ blow it."

"**Dammit**!" Alex sighed once more. "I'll get back to you."

Jaime feigned total absorption in cloud formations as Alex rejoined her. "I'm sorry," he said softly, his arm claiming her once more. "Shall we?"

"Is...is everything ok?"

Alex beamed at her, his ice-blue eyes sparkling and chilling Jaime to the bone. "The sun is shining, I've got you in my arms; how could things be any way but alright?"

------

Jaime passed Steve and his harem on her way back to the cottage that night. When she was sure he was looking at her, she raised a loose fist toward her ear and mouthed the words 'Call me', hoping he'd read her lips. The phone rang within minutes of when she walked through the door. As usual, she picked up silently.

"It's me."

This time, Jaime's heart skipped several beats; a tell-tale whine-click told her the line was no longer clear. She was about to let Steve know that and hang up, when she heard his voice again, although this time he wasn't talking to her.

"What the _hell_ -?" Steve said nothing else, and she heard a soft _thwack_ and a much louder **_thud _**before someone hung up the phone.

Jaime was on her own.

------


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Jaime stared at the now-silent receiver in horror and disbelief. She _had_ to find her husband, and desperately needed to let Oscar what had happened. _Where can I find a_ **_safe_** _phone_? she wondered, quickly becoming panicky. _Ok, gotta slow down, gotta **think**_. She stopped and took several deep, steadying breaths, then headed out in the direction of Steve's cottage.

The screen door hung loosely from one hinge and the inner door was open. There was no blood, no sign of a struggle. Hopeful, Jaime picked up the phone, then slammed it down again; another tap. She silently cursed the luck she had, in being at a resort that didn't believe in providing payphones.

She decided to take the long way around the island, ending up behind the villa, next to the wall that, on its other side, was Alex's office. She couldn't hear any voices, at first. Then, so suddenly that it made her jump, Jaime heard the office door slam shut. Seconds later, Alex was on the phone. Jaime couldn't hear the voice on the other end through the thick outer wall, but she definitely heard Alex, who was making no attempt to speak softly.

"Change of plans," he said abruptly. "I need you to call the pilots back and have 'em all fueled and ready to go by first thing tomorrow morning. I'll call then with the details."

"Yeah, I know I just told you to send 'em out. Now I'm telling you to get them back. **Tonight**. I don't care where they went; _get them back!_"

He slammed the receiver down and then must've picked it back up again to make another call, because once again Jaime could hear him growing angrier by the second.

"Thought I should warn you," Alex was saying, "I'm not sure we can be ready in time. You might want to arrange some back-ups." Jaime could actually hear him pacing heavily across the office as he spoke. "I realize that, but I'm also trying to make sure nothing goes wrong, and this could be a problem. I can fly one out myself, if a pilot is delayed, but if more than one doesn't make it...Fine. I know that. Rawson said they may try to get to me, to stop us, but I've got more guards than grains of sand on the damned beach. I'll call you in the morning." Alex then apparently left the office, because Jaime heard the door close - a little more softly this time - and then there was silence.

_So much for my last hope that he was innocent_, she thought. She couldn't believe he'd almost had her fooled. _Dammit, Alex...WHY?_

Jaime tried to picture every room in the villa, from when Alex had shown her around the previous day. She was certain all of the guest rooms had phones, but which ones were occupied? Very quietly, she pried open the window located at the back of the large dining area and slipped silently into the back hallway. She chose a bedroom at random and got very lucky; it was empty. She found the telephone and dialed Oscar's red line as fast as her trembling fingers could move.

"_Put the phone down, Susanna_," a voice commanded, just as Oscar - or someone, she didn't get to hear who - picked up on the other end. Two men stood in the doorway, guns trained toward Jaime's head as they moved in to grab her. For a very brief moment, she considered fighting them, but multiple sets of footsteps coming toward them told her that might not be such a good idea. One man grabbed each of her arms tightly, hurting the left one with a grip like a vice. They forced her down the hall and into the kitchen. A third man opened another door and roughly shoved Jaime inside. Her foot hit open air and as she began to tumble down the flight of stairs, one of them chuckled at her.

"I'm sure Alex will be seeing you shortly," was the last thing she heard before hitting her head on the base of the stairs and blacking out.

------

"So, who are you, really?" Alex's gentle voice asked, as soon as Jaime opened her eyes. Jaime merely glared at him, not exactly in a talkative mood. "You know, this is just sad. I trusted you. Hell, I think I was actually falling in love with you. _Why_, Susanna?" His eyes looked genuinely bereft. "I think I've at least got the right to know your real name. _Who are you_?"

"Who are **_you_**?" Jaime shot back at him.

"Everything I've told you is the truth. You can't say the same, though, and that means we've got a problem." He looked straight into her eyes. "Last chance to level with me. No? Suit yourself." Alex removed a syringe from his pocket, pulled Jaime's left arm forward and plunged the needle into her flesh.

------


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Jaime opened her eyes several times in the next few hours but felt so groggy and dizzy that she was forced to close them again. She wasn't fully awake until the sound of a fierce struggle at the top of the stairs penetrated the fog and caught her attention. Looking up, she saw the same men who'd thrown her down the stairs, and this time, they had **_Steve_**! Jaime was dismayed to find she'd been gagged and handcuffed; she couldn't call out to him or get his attention. She looked beyond Steve and the guards and was shocked to see, from the window behind them, that it was completely light outside. That meant Alex and his pilots were already getting into place, possibly enroute to their assigned destinations, in preparation for making their move. They were very nearly out of time.

Jaime watched as two guards went down, and then a third, and Steve turned, probably to break the window and run, when a gunshot stopped him mid-step. She screamed into her gag as her now-bleeding husband rolled down the stairs. Three men came down the stairs after him, and one put a gun to his temple as the other two began to cuff and gag him.

"Move again and the next one goes straight through your brain," the guard growled. Once Steve was secured, the men went back up the stairs and Jaime and Steve were alone. His eyes were partially open, but he wasn't completely conscious. Jaime slid slowly across the floor toward him by wriggling her hips and pulling with her feet.

When she was as close as she could get, she began looking him over. His face had become very pale, and he seemed to be bleeding from somewhere behind, where Jaime couldn't see, possibly his shoulder or upper back. Not a lot of blood, but it was _Steve's blood. _Trying to get him to open his eyes, she gently nudged his forehead with her own, then leaned back against the wall, her arm directly touching his, to wait. Very soon, he began to stir and then, sensing her presence, Steve turned and saw his wife sitting next to him. Jaime could read the sadness and dismay in his eyes. She tried to poke the gag from her mouth with her tongue, then leaned toward her husband for help. Understanding immediately, Steve parted his lips and after several tries managed to get a small bit of her gag between his teeth, yanking it out with a sharp turn of his head. She quickly did the same for him.

"How badly were you hit?" she asked fearfully.

"My shoulder; not too bad. Did they hurt you?"

"No. Alex drugged me with something last night, though. Steve, they moved the attacks up to Friday. We've only got twenty-four hours, or less."

"You...must've been out awhile. It's already Friday, Sweetheart," he said quietly.

"Oh God, it can't be! He must've come back down and drugged me again before I woke up!"

"So...it _is_ Alex?"

"Yeah. My instincts failed me this time, I guess. We've gotta get out of here; we have to stop him!" Jaime said in an urgent whisper.

Steve nodded. "I have an idea...listen..."

------

When the guards returned to check their prisoners, they found that Steve and Jaime were both exactly where they'd left them, and both appeared to be unconscious. Jaime was lying on her left side, curled up in a near-fetal position. Steve leaned back against the wall, his right side facing outward. As the guards bent down to re-drug them, Jaime and Steve both swung their legs into the air, knocking each man into another like a row of dominoes, then both landed on their feet. They quickly gathered up all of the guns, with Steve working one-handed, his left arm hanging uselessly at his side. Since his arm and shoulder had already been injured by the bullet he'd taken, Steve had chosen to break his cuffs (and, in the process, his arm) in order to free himself and his wife. With guns firing as fast as they could manage, they made their way up the stairs and out the window that the bullets had opened for them.

Jaime and Steve moved stealthily through the foliage, trying to avoid detection. They were halfway to Jaime's cottage, intending to use the phone to call Oscar. Bug or no bug, they needed **_help_**. Jaime was suddenly halted by the sound of someone falling to the ground. It was Steve, and Alex was standing over him, the butt of a shotgun poised to hit his skull again.

"I'm sorry, Miss Whatever-Your-Name-Is, but I simply can't let you leave."

------


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Two armed men appeared almost instantly at Alex's side. Alex glanced with contempt at Steve's prone body. "Take him back to the villa and put him in my office," he told them, handing one of them the shotgun. As they dragged Steve away, Alex turned to Jaime. "**Come here**." Before she could respond, he pulled a much smaller, but still very lethal, pistol from his pocket. "**_NOW_**."

Jaime reluctantly moved to his side, and the arm that had held her so tenderly just one day earlier grabbed her in a cruelly tight embrace, the gun partially hidden as he pressed it against her stomach. His eyes, the same ones that had seemed so loving and kind, were ice-cold and angry.

"So who was that?" Alex demanded as he forced her back toward the villa. "Your _real_ lover?" When Jaime didn't answer, he jerked back hard on the weapon, slamming her with the gun butt. "I believe I asked you a question," he said in a very low, threatening voice.

Jaime gasped for enough air to spit out her answer. "I _don't_ believe I care to answer."

"You will," he insisted, hurling her onto the steps of the veranda with a vicious, brutal shove. "We can start with an easier one. _What's your name?_ Who do you work for?" He was surprised to see her looking up at him with anger instead of fear, and he was thoroughly shocked when she immediately rose to her feet, facing him. Jaime's eyes were locked warily on Alex, but her ear was straining for any sign of her husband or any sounds of a scuffle.

"Why, Alex?" she asked him sadly. "What are you into?"

"_Cut the damned act_!" he snarled, lashing out and striking Jaime's forehead with the barrel of the gun. The force of the blow knocked her off the veranda, momentarily stunning her.

Jaime's mind flashed on the memory of Franklin Bailey hitting her with _his_ gun, with a nearly identical swing. She'd gone down for the count that time, giving Bailey the upper hand, and she'd nearly died. **_No_**, she told herself, **_not this time_**! Jaime fought to keep her eyes open, then painfully started to stand. A large lump of dull grey steel caught her eye; it was the shotgun, or, rather, the remains of the shotgun. The wood and metal had been compressed into a cross between a pretzel and a ball._ Steve!_ He must have managed to break away, at least long enough to destroy the weapon. Did he get away?

"You're gonna wish you'd stayed down," Alex told her, taking her firmly by the arm and pulling her into the villa. He took her through the den and into the back office. She smiled triumphantly to herself, seeing no sign of Steve. The triumph was short-lived. Alex moved a tall file cabinet aside as if it were empty, which it was. He produced two keys and opened the hidden door. "Keep walking," he ordered. A set of stairs led down to a hidden chamber in the cellar. It wasn't very big - just a hallway that was about ten feet long, with what looked like two old-time jail cells, one on each side. Steve sat quietly in one of them, conscious and fully alert.

"Maybe I should put you together," Alex mused, "but I'm not that nice to traitors." He turned to the empty cell, fiddling through his keys.

While he was fighting with the lock, Steve whispered to his wife, so softly that Alex didn't notice. "Jaime, if we're getting out, we've gotta do it now. You ready?"

Jaime gave him a nearly imperceptible nod, then turned her attention to Alex. She wrenched her right arm around his neck, immobilizing him in a choke-hold, as Steve bent the bars of his cell, pushing them aside like they were clay. Alex struggled to twist his gun around enough to fire at one of them, but Steve had his arm and when Alex pulled the trigger, he barely missed his foot.

"Now, hand it to me," Steve told him. Unable to breathe, Marcos complied, and Steve pocketed the weapon. "Let's put him in the cell," he told Jaime. She pushed Alex through the hole her husband had made in the bars and Steve bent them back into place. "Throw me your keys," he ordered, "or I'm coming in after them, and might just take your arm, too, by accident, of course. Marcos stared, stunned and still rubbing his neck. "The keys," Steve repeated.

Alex tossed the keys out of the cell, and Steve handed them to Jaime, who threw them into the second cell. "Oh, I'm sorry," she exclaimed. "There's no way to get you out now, is there?"

Alex looked at his watch, then looked straight ahead, staring blankly at nothing. "You don't know what you're dealing with here, do you?" he said, sounding almost sad. "You have no idea what you've done, the chaos you're causing..." He looked up as the remainder of his men stampeded down the stairs to come to his aid. "Call Rawson right now and tell him to _GO_! It's time!"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Alex's men flew back up the stairs, then immediately reappeared, followed by an even larger herd of men in dark suits, with Oscar bringing up the rear.

"Send in the Cavalry," Jaime said softly.

"Jaime - when you called the red line and then didn't say anything, I knew you needed help," Oscar told her.

"OSI," one of Marcos' men told him grimly. "I didn't get to Rawson."

Alex sighed in dismay. "Look, you can do whatever you want with me. Send me to prison; hell - kill me if you're so inclined, but please...he's _got_ to make this phone call."

"Not a chance," Steve said, re-claiming his wife for himself with his own arm around her waist.

"You don't know what you're doing," Alex pleaded. "People are about to die - important people."

"Ah...no. That's why you're in there and we're out here," Steve responded. "Not gonna happen."

"You're OSI?" He actually seemed panicked. Jaime nodded the answer. "Well, _your President_ is one of the people I'm trying to save." He looked directly into Jaime's eyes. "I'm trying to stop an assassination plot. Please...we've got less than five minutes left. I know you have no reason to trust me right now, but I'll explain all of it, I swear! Just - _please_ - let one of my men use the telephone."

Jaime and Steve looked at each other in total shock, then both turned to Oscar. No one said a word.

"We're almost out of time," Alex said frantically. "My men will take the terrorists down, but only with my say-so."

Jaime's eyes grew wide. "Oscar...he's right - I shouldn't believe him, and I'm not sure why, but I do. I think he's telling the truth."

Oscar trusted her instincts, and turned to his men. "Take one of them upstairs. As soon as they're done, get Washington on the phone. Find out exactly what's happened." He turned back to Alex. "If you're lying, you're going to wish they'd killed you."

The men headed up the stairs once again, and returned minutes later, the OSI operatives looking as pale as bone-china.

"He wasn't lying," one of them stammered. "There were assassins...six of 'em...and then the pilots got off of the 'copters and took all of 'em out."

Jaime stepped toward Alex's cell. Steve stayed back, knowing she _needed_ to take care of this herself.

"Let's hear it," she told Alex. "Start with this one...Who are you, really?"

"I **am **Alexander Marcos. Everything I told you was absolutely true. I do own a helicopter charter service. Two weeks ago, I was approached by a group of men who hired us to transport them to four separate nations' capitols. Later, they asked for my other two bird's as well. It sounded strange, so I did a little clandestine digging and found out what they were up to. I chose a half dozen of my best pilots - specially trained in defensive maneuvers since we sometimes transport heads of state - and assigned them to this job."

"Why didn't you just report this to authorities?" Jaime asked reasonably.

"I was already being watched, suspected, and I was afraid I'd be locked away by your government and then be unable to stop the killings from taking place. I'd planned to step forward as soon as it was over."

Steve stayed where he was, but couldn't contain his question any longer. "Why did you find it necessary to hurt my wife?"

Alex was stymied. "Your -?"

"_My **wife**_," Steve repeated.

Alex looked from Jaime to Steve and then back again, trying to find the words. "Susanna..."

"Jaime," she told him softly.

"Jaime. I can never apologize enough for what we did to you. To _both_ of you. Most people who come here have reservations well in advance, and I know they're booked solid. The day you arrived, my men informed me that you had no advance reservation, that arrangements had been made the night before. I thought you were one of _them_, sent to stop me. I couldn't allow their plans to succeed." Alex got up and moved toward the bars, toward Jaime. "Once I started getting to know you, I thought maybe I'd been wrong, and maybe you really were a rich girl from the States, here to spend Daddy's money. Then they caught you on the phone, and when you came up from the cellar with...him, well I had to go back to the original assumption. And, like I said, there's was no way I could let their plot go forward." He reached up to touch her hands on the bars, but thought better of it and put his own hands down again. "I am beyond sorry that I hurt you...and your husband. I need you to know one thing for certain, Jaime. I didn't tell you the entire truth, but I also never lied to you - not once. And when I said I was falling for you, well, that was honest as well."

Jaime was touched by the last sentiment, although she didn't allow him to see that. "Alex," she began slowly, "you know we have to take you back to the States with us."

"I know. It's worth prison, though, now that everything is all over and no one was killed."

Jaime looked toward her boss, certain there was something he could do.


	10. Epilogue

Epilogue

The "Cavalry" returned to the States on a transport plane, with Alex in their custody. Oscar would be flying back on a private plane, and Jaime and Steve were being sent home in style, aboard a private luxury jet that Oscar told them they'd more than earned.

"But we didn't prevent the attack; Alex did," Jaime pointed out when Oscar re-joined them after making his sixth or seventh phone call from the villa.

"True," he agreed. "But you both did an outstanding job on an assignment you didn't want in the first place. And believe it or not, Marcos wouldn't have been able to do what he did if the two of you hadn't come here."

"How do you figure that?" Steve asked, holding Jaime in his arms, just as he'd been doing for the last hour.

"Alexander was partially correct," Oscar explained. "Pal, one of the women you...ah...befriended..._was_ sent by the terrorists to ensure the rescue plan wouldn't be carried out. You kept her too occupied for her to make her move, and Jaime was sticking to Marcos like glue, so -"

"_Kept her occupied_?" Jaime said teasingly. "And how'd you manage to do that?"

"Our plane's here," Steve dodged. "How 'bout we get on board, and then I'll show you."

"It **is** a private plane," Oscar said, smiling, "but bear in mind you're both hurt, and you haven't been checked over yet -"

"I'll take good care of her, Doctor Goldman," Steve assured him. Once they were aboard the aircraft, Steve gazed at his wife. "You know, Sweetheart, once we get back, Rudy's gonna make us both spend a night or two in the hospital -"

"That means we'll have to wait even longer," she lamented, not needing to complete the sentence. She knew Steve understood.

"Well..." he said, flashing a semi-evil grin, "I know the best possible medicine; soothes the soul as well as the body..."

"Is that a fact?"

"Prove it to ya," he challenged.

When Rudy met the plane in DC, he was struck by the fact that his two injured patients - one shot and one quite battered - had the broadest smiles he'd ever seen.

END


End file.
